The Silent Spectator
by Artsiegrl9513
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is the world's only consulting detective. With his silent apprentice, Livia Greene, they help the police do their jobs, only more sufficiently and twice as dangerous. John Watson, an army doctor, has just met the duo after being introduced to a friend. Very quickly, to duo become a trio. Basically all it is, is me adding my own character into the series.


This story is about the heart, the voice, and the brain. The heart will be played by Dr. John Watson. The voice, will mostly be silent but played by Livia Green. And the brain by the great Sherlock Holmes. Their destinies are intertwined. We'll start with the heart.  
John is the oldest, but that's only given time to teach him some dark lessons. Like how life is incredibly fragile. He started his day normally, waking up to another nightmare. With his cane at his side he was able to get around and try to run his boring life. His therapist pressuring him to write in his blog about everything that happens to him. Internally, he scoffed.  
"Nothing ever happens to me."  
His life was very different from Sherlock and Livia.  
"Just as I thought," Sherlock nodded, looking up at Livia who had been reading in the cab. "The green ladder, right? Don't you agree?" She smiled and nodded before continuing her book on increasing her deduction skills.  
Okay, maybe that wasn't the best thing to compare John's life to. But know where to put your trust, and know that Sherlock and Livia are almost constantly living in the middle of a battlefield.  
Now here's where their paths meet. A mutual friend, Mike is his name, introduced them.  
"Bit different from my day." John studied the lab. He found a man who hardly glanced up from his work. Handsome, pale skin, dark curly hair. Something about him sparked John's interest  
"You've no idea." Mike laughed and found a seat. John stood by the counter, rather perplexed that the man at the microscope didn't welcome them in any way.  
"Liv, do you have your phone with you?" The man looked over towards the corner where a young girl was reading quietly. She looked up, tilted her head, and raised her eyebrows. "That's right, it's dead. Mike?" John was startled by the girl as he didn't notice her before. She was tiny, in height and build. Her hair was dark and short, stopping at her jaw line. Making her look a few years older then she really was, which was nineteen. She had rather large, bright, green eyes. Fairly pretty, but you could easily forget her.  
"And what's wrong with the landline?"  
"I prefer to text."  
"Oh, well it's in my coat." He sighed and went back to his work. John pulled out his mobile and held it out to him.  
"Here, use mine."  
"Oh... Thank you." He stood up from his stool and went to take it. The girl watched the interaction carefully.  
John eye's kept flicking towards her, feeling a bit creeped out. After catching his eye she went back to her book.  
"This is an old friend of mine, John Watson."  
"Friend of yours?" John nodded towards her. The man looked up from the phone.  
"Oh, uh... That's Livia." He looked back to the phone. "My... Apprentice." He continued typing with the phone before handing it back to John.  
"Apprentice? In what?"  
"My work. So Iraq or Afghanistan?" John was taken back by this.  
"Sorry?"  
"Which was it, Iraq or Afghanistan?" John pondered this, trying to understand how he could've possibly known he went off to war.  
"Afghanistan, sorry, how did you-?"  
"Ah, Molly!" The man focused away from John again and went to the girl who entered the room. A peppy assistant looking woman, who seemed almost too eager to please. "Coffee, thank you. What happened to your lipstick?" Molly stuttered and placed her fingers on her lips after handing him the cup.  
"It wasn't working for me." She blushed a little.  
"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. You're mouth's much too small now." He waved it off and went back to work.  
"Okay..." She mumbled and left the room, nodding to the guests.  
"How do you feel about the violin?" He looked at John, who once again found himself a bit distraught.  
"I'm sorry, what?"  
"I play the violin when I'm trying to think and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." He smiled at John. "Oh, and she lives with me." Livia's head shot up with a concerned look. "She doesn't speak though, she'll never bother you." John's head was full of questions. "You told him about me." He accused Mike.  
"Not a word."  
"Then who said anything about flatmates?"  
"I did. Told Mike this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap." He stood and grabbed his coat. "Liv," She nodded and also stood to grab her coat and stuffed her book into a brown bag that was on a nearby table.  
"How did you know about Afghanistan?"  
"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash. I left my riding crop in the mortuary. Let's go Livia." She was already at his side and ready to leave.  
"Is that it?" He stopped, as did Liv.  
"Is that what?"  
"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name." Sherlock was tempted to roll his eyes at John.  
"I know you're an army doctor and you've been invalided here from Afghanistan. You've got a brother worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him. Possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he's recently walked out on his wife. I know your therapist thinks your limp is psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" John stared at him in awe, receiving smirks from all three other people. "The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon." He winked and left. Livia lingered behind, offering John a half smile before being called again by Sherlock, to which she ran to like a trained puppy.  
"Yeah," Mike brought John from his trance. "He's always like that."  
"And the girl? Livia?"  
"Will probably never speak a word to you. I'm pretty sure Sherlock is the only person to ever hear her voice."  
"So then... girlfriend?"  
"No." Mike shook his head and laughed. laughed.  
"Daughter?" He laughed even harder.  
"No, she's just what he called her. His apprentice. Liv's been at his side for god knows how long." John sighed and took a step towards the door.  
"And what do you mean she'll never speak a word to me? That's ridiculous." Mike jus shrugged his shoulders.  
"Apparently she went through some sort of traumatic experience. Sherlock swears she speaks to him, but I'm not so sure."  
"Huh... Well it was good seeing you, Mike."  
"Yeah, you too John."


End file.
